Mistletoe
by androidilenya
Summary: Kirk throws a holiday party, Uhura is unamused, and Carol has her own plans.


**Femslash Yuletide Prompt #3: Under the Mistletoe**

* * *

A holiday party was a traditional thing to have during this time of year on Earth, and it was perhaps inevitable that some vestige of that would have carried over to the starships that left Earth on various missions. It would be Kirk's idea, though, to make it a shipwide requirement to attend the holiday party he had decided to throw. It would also be mostly Kirk's fault that there were copious amounts of alcoholic beverages present at said party.

"Don't expect me to stay for long," Dr. McCoy had informed Uhura when she was down in sickbay for her routine examination (which she was much better at showing up on time for than _certain others_ aboard this ship). She had nodded, suspecting that the only reason he would be showing up at all was the Saurian brandy that Kirk had managed to procure.

"It is a foolish and quaint idea," Spock had noted later with his customary twitch of an eyebrow. "I will attend for the sake of observing the traditions of humans."

She hadn't spoken to him for a few days now; this was the result of something completely unrelated and inconsequential. (But how _infuriating_ he was, every word out of that damn emotionless mouth, and she wanted to _slap_ him every damn _time_––)

But a holiday party, that was something that nearly approached a good idea––a credit she didn't particularly want to give to Kirk, but there you have it. And the (more normal) ones she had attended back home had always served to put her in a better mood. Something about the general air of cheerful friendliness, perhaps.

This particular party would either be a complete disaster or a mild success, she decided. Either way, she wanted to be there.

* * *

"Still not talking to him, are we?"

Uhura shot a cool glance at Kirk, swirling the pink liquid that had somehow made its way into her glass. Around them, scattered lights from the disco ball overhead bounced off the walls and skittered over the skin of the crewmembers gathered in the rec hall. "I fail to see how that is any of your business."

"Fine. Be that way." Kirk knocked back his glass, spilling a drop down his chin, and dropped his hand to his side, shrugging. "I notice that you failed to heed the order I gave that all crewmembers wear something festive."

"And this is your idea of festive?" she asked, pointing to the Santa hat he had on his head, the white fluff at the tip falling in front of his eyes. He smirked.

"Better than simply wearing my uniform, as you seem to have. Are you at least enjoying yourself?"

"I've been passing the time quite well wondering where in this godforsaken galaxy you managed to find _that_ monstrosity," she replied, gesturing to the scintillating disco ball overhead. Kirk shook his head, grinning.

"Trade secret." He sauntered away, towards the drink stand set up at the far side of the room, and she shook her head, marveling that someone so idiotic could perform so very nearly adequately as a captain of a starship.

* * *

"Where have you been hiding?" Carol's voice was decidedly fuzzy, her blue eyes a bit too bright, the glass in her hand half empty. Uhura suspected it was far from her first––and judging by the way she was compulsively sipping it, it was also probably far from her last.

"I haven't been hiding."

"Then why haven't I seen you around?"

"You don't come up to the bridge much." Uhura sipped from her own glass, feeling the odd, foreign warmth trickle down her throat. Carol laughed.

"Well, then. You and I, we ought to see each other more. I think you're one of the few sane people on this vessel." Funny how, despite the increasing tipsiness of her bearing, that crisp, cultured accent remained.

"Perhaps." She did not add that it wasn't particularly hard to seem sane on this ship, especially when compared to most of the other crewmembers. "Are you––having fun?" That sounded a lot like Kirk's question to her, but it was standard small talk. She resisted the urge to glance at the clock to see how many more hours she had until she could reasonably excuse herself. McCoy had already disappeared, of course, but she didn't have quite his level of leniency from the captain.

"Of course," Carol said, smiling. "This is––this is the most fun party I have ever been to."

"Haven't been to many, have we?" Uhura looked her up and down, noting the flashing necklace of miniature Christmas lights she had hung around her neck (and where _did_ everyone get such things, she had to wonder), the red and green lighting her face from below.

Carol's face fell slightly. "My fa––I never went to many parties."

Uhura nodded, privately thinking, _then perhaps this was worth it._ And where exactly _that_ thought came from, she wasn't entirely sure. Perhaps this drink was starting to affect her, after all.

"We should throw another one soon, then," she found herself saying, a ridiculous statement in every way (especially since she didn't even _like_ parties), but the smile that broke across Carol's face was warm and heartfelt, and maybe that made the idea seem the tiniest bit more plausible.

Carol shifted her nearly empty glass to her other hand, pointed up at the ceiling. "Look."

Uhura raised her head obediently, wondering––and had to stifle a laugh when she saw the bundle of green dangling from the ceiling, so out of place in the vast expanse of plain grey. "You're _kidding_. Where the hell did our captain manage to get _that_?"

"Even I know what you're supposed to do under mistletoe," Carol noted, eyes shining, and before Uhura could react she had grabbed the collar of her uniform and dragged her closer, the shorter woman's grip far stronger than Uhura would have expected. Their lips collided and Uhura tasted the spice of Carol's drink on her tongue, warm and sudden.

Carol made a soft noise, tossing her glass aside and flinging her arms around Uhura. Startled, Uhura's eyes flew open (and she hadn't even realized that they'd closed, somehow) and she met Carol's ice-blue gaze, saw the amusement there. Across the room, she noted Spock's hasty exit from the room and had to resist the urge to smirk.

_This is nice. This is… very nice._

"Well," Carol said when they pulled apart, the word a puff of exhilarated breath. "I shall have to lure you over to mistletoe more often, won't I."

"You––" For once, Uhura was at a loss for words.

"Of course." Carol grinned. "My quarters, an hour from now, yes?"

"Yes." Uhura nodded, perhaps a bit too eagerly. "I––yes, I'll be there."

"Good." Carol turned and walked away, knocking back the rest of her drink, and Uhura smiled.


End file.
